A Highspeed Chase in the Prairies
by twopunch
Summary: Steve and Danny partnership/friendship, Steve/Sang Min slash - Two cops leave their jurisdiction in pursuit of one man.


**A High-speed Chase in the Prairies**

Written for the Canadian Shack 2011 Challenge

**Warnings: **Some confusion over consent, may read as dubious or not.

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><p>As with most things since joining the Five-0, it was all Steve's fault. He was like a stubborn, pernicious dog with a bone. A pretty dog, probably some kind of new pedigreed attack breed, just off the side from inbred stupidity. Show-worthy despite that particularly ugly bone between his teeth. A stripped down, chewed up and useless bone called Sang Min.<p>

Where Steve had gotten the plane was less of a question than where Sang Min had gotten his plane, and how all of them had ended up over the 49th parallel and out of fuel in the godforsaken prairies without anyone noticing them breaking all sorts of border laws. Danny chalked it up to that McGarrett magic. Something he'd mocked on one or two occasions, much to the endless amusement of Kono and Chin. But if Steve was stubborn, well, so was Danny.

Which is why they were both in Canada, in the middle of a flat nothing around for miles (_kilometres_, they said on this side of the border) plain, during a freezing-your-balls-off cold snowstorm, in a thank-god-this-was-here emergency shack, having a hatchet-vs-gun Mexican stand-off with that greasy punk, Sang Min.

"Well, this is cozy," said Sang Min, "and a bit outta your jurisdiction, don't you think?" He barely got the words out, his teeth chattering nearly as strongly as the trembling of his dual-wielding gun hands.

Unlike them, he was still dressed for the tropics, wearing thin dress slacks with equally thin wife beater and airy short-sleeve shirt. He hadn't had the chance to grab anything thicker during their superhuman chase through the hotel, out windows, over and under fences, across a damn throughway and into the sky. They'd caught him in the middle of putting his shoes on, otherwise he probably would have been barefoot as well.

Even wearing a down coat, Danny's balls had already shrunken and crawled up into his pelvis. Besides a bit of pink to his nose, Steve seemed unaffected, of course. Still, Danny doubted that weather appropriate clothing would have helped - he and Steve had significantly more padding on their bones than the skinny man in front of them. If Danny was freezing, Sang Min couldn't last much longer.

Danny said soothingly, "Alright, just... put the guns down. We-" What _did_ they want? Danny had no idea, actually. It was Steve's show. "-just wanted to ask a few questions. Right?" he finished, glancing quickly to Steve who was still staring fixedly down the end of his hatchet at Sang Min.

"A few questions? This is how you guys ask questions?" Sang Min laughed, his shivering putting a shakiness in his voice that Danny doubted had anything to do with his feelings, "I gave you what you needed, what you wanted. But you fucked up and lost Wo Fat. That's none of my business. I already gave you everything. What else do you want?" Alright, maybe a little bit of his feelings. Sang Min tossed his hair back with a quick twist of his head. It was a few inches longer than when they'd last crossed paths, and enviably taller.

"You left," Steve said. Quietly, but the words dropped between them loud as rifle fire, easily heard over the howling winds of the storm outside. The walls rattled and Sang Min's hands shook forcefully. He was beginning to look a little purple-lipped, hands white-knuckled and complexion bleached out with a greyish cast. Danny kept a close, wary eye on his trigger fingers.

"Yeah, I did," replied Sang Min. "We were done."

"You _left_," Steve repeated, stubborn as a dog with that damned bone it didn't want to let go of. And that was exactly the problem, wasn't it?

Danny, now, Danny did appreciate a few things about guys like Sang Min. When it came to dealing with scumbags, the ones with a sense of humor and some level of repartee were always the best. Those were the ones that could be reasoned with. A bit of banter, a little back and forth and you could tease out their soft points. Find something you could gently put pressure on, if needed. So in a way, Danny got along with Sang Min, about as much as a cop could get along with a perp. Even if it didn't look like it, it was never i_personal_/i.

Steve, on the other hand... with Steve, everything got personal.

Playing Sang Min that closely, having him pop up underfoot at all the damnedest moments, actually having to depend on him on some level? He'd become part of the landscape and it had been a matter of when, not if, Steve began to feel... ownership. Danny didn't believe for a moment that Steve actually liked the guy, as a human being. But somehow, at some point, it no longer mattered if he was a sewer-dwelling rat. He was _Steve__'__s_ rat.

Chasing the guy all the way to Canada was taking things a bit far, though. Coming with Steve was never in doubt, they were partners, family. Danny was there to provide the reality check. It wasn't working so far, but he'd find an angle. Eventually. Even as he was thinking this, Steve dropped his hatchet and dove at Sang Min, moving faster than Danny could have believed.

One of Sang Min's guns went off as he flew backward under Steve's weight, the bullets puncturing the roof of the already drafty structure. Wind and snow whistled through. There was no fight. The cold had finally gotten to him and Sang Min folded like paper beneath Steve, curling in and shivering violently. Steve lay on top of him and grunted, "Danny-"

"Yeah, I'll get a blanket." Tethered by a rope he'd found, he went back out in the storm. Rummaging around in their commandeered plane, Danny found several blankets, food, the plane owner's revolver and ten large matchboxes. He pocketed the gun, some granola bars and took the blankets with him.

"Alright," Danny began as he pushed back through the doors and stopped short. Nearly bit his tongue in half. He'd expected to see Steve and Sang Min tangled together, that's how he'd left them. But at some point during the minutes he'd been waddling through the snow outside, Steve had unzipped his coat and pulled Sang Min inside so he was pressed against him, back to chest. Unless this was a secret SEAL method, Danny couldn't even excuse it as an attempt to warm the half-frozen guy, because Sang Min's shirt had been tossed across the room and his wifebeater yanked up to his armpits. He couldn't see with the coat blocking his line of sight, but from the angle of Steve's shoulders and arm, Danny guessed that Steve had his hand down the front of Sang Min's pants.

_No__._ Danny thought. _No__, __no__, __no__. __Please __tell __me __this __isn__'__t __some __new__, __poorly __thought __out __questioning __technique__, __because __I __draw __the __line __at -_ Danny said out loud, "What are you doing?" He prayed that this was just an episode of Three's Company and it was all a big misunderstanding - maybe there was an infestation of invisible Canadian snow ants and Steve was just being overly helpful. Something like that.

Who was he kidding? He stood over the both of them and a tiny part of the Danny's mind, the one that screamed at the sight of live grenades and cliff faces, hoped, desperately, that this entire, ridiculous scenario was at least consensual.

He promptly strangled the traitorous thought. It couldn't be otherwise. Couldn't. Which only meant that there were _a __lot_ of things that needed explaining. "Steve."

Steve looked up. "It's not what you're thinking."

"Really? Because I can guarantee that if you wrote an entire set of encyclopedias, you won't even know a fraction of what's running through my mind right now."

Not answering at first, Steve pressed his mouth against long, greasy black hair. Danny didn't want to think about him kissing Sang Min, but there he was. Sang Min twitched and looked up, blowing hair out of his face now that his usual head flip was constrained by Steve's bulk plastered up behind him. He didn't i_seem_/i unhappy about the state of things, not even stressed. Problem was, he didn't look particularly happy either. His brows were drawn together and as he saw Danny's confused expression, and he elbowed Steve in the ribs. "What, you want me to tell your boyfriend that you're two-timing him with-" he broke off with a yelp as he was bitten on the shoulder.

Danny waited. When he was done, Steve said, "I'll explain later."

"Explain? Ya think? You," Danny stabbed a finger at Steve, "and me." He pointed back at himself. Steve needed things emphasized before anything penetrated. "We have a really long talk scheduled in the near future. Really near. I'll be waiting outside." He dumped the blankets where he stood, then spun around to leave.

As he headed back out the door, he heard Steve say to Sang Min, "I told you we're not seeing each other."

"Well, we're not seeing each other either so-" Sang Min began mockingly and broke off with a yelp - Danny couldn't decide whether he preferred it to be a pained one or not.

Danny shut the door firmly behind him and pulled out a granola bar. Snow swirled thickly as the wind picked up and bent the trees sideways with its roaring force. A muffled shout came from within. He hoped he wasn't going to have to find earplugs.

It was really, really fucking cold.

He missed Grace. Maybe he should stop by at one of those little tourist shops at the airport. Maybe she'd like a stuffed moose.

.

.

.

THE END

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong> There's really zero justification for this. HAHA. Self beta'd if you count two people editing a 'self'. Also yeah, they're not really in the Prairies. It's Danny pov, he doesn't know better.


End file.
